Writing practice no. 1

About 3 or 4 years ago…

Listen, sis”(my best friend/consider him my brother/ future best man/ my neighbor liked always to call me “sis” or “sister” because he never had one, not even a female cousin. Once he said that, if he was supposed to have sister, it is imperative that she is to be like me), there are four types of women, at least the major ones. The differences are obvious. A woman can be physically beautiful, have big charisma, be hideously ugly and, the worst one – have no charisma at all. You do know that a woman can’t have only one of these threats, right? Well, there are possible combinations, but you either have or don’t have charisma, or you are ugly, or beautiful. Nothing between.

The worst type, as I said, is the one type of women who has actually not a single hint of charisma. For me, it is better to buy those “sex dolls” that Japan is so much talking about, than actually be with one of these women. Don’t get me wrong, there are various types of them. You can find a beautiful diamond that shines more than any other in the dark, but reveals to be a fake as soon as it opens its mouth. Beware of these girls. Their words are like a blunt knife – you can see their attempt to crawl bellow your skin, but all they do is make a nice scar that lasts for couple of days. They are only for show, nothing more. You don’t take them to dinner, you don’t talk to them. Hell, I don’t do anything with them. I just watch their pathetic attempts and laugh.

The second type is like that woman in the corner. (We were for a walk in the park and resting on the bench when he was speaking this to me, eating ice cream and watching people pass by) “She is ugly like Hell, even she’d admit it if we asked her. But you don’t know if she is nice, or the proof that ‘dinosaurs still walk the Earth’, in this case, a T-Rex.

I stopped him there for a moment: “You are saying that this woman can be ugly and nice, or ugly and nightmare?”

“Yes”, he said after a moment. “Do you know her? She is a professor in my school. She is the smartest person I ever met, and she always helped students learn and get better grades. How is that for a change? The most beloved grown-up in my school is an ugly woman. This is how I learned what irony is. The next two are obvious. I am not going to bother with explanation.”

Then a thought occurred to me. With curiosity and challenge in my voice, I asked him, no, dared him to answer this question: “Which type am I?”

He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, all the time watching two girls in nothing but shorts and tiny shirts as they passed by. I heard him murmur “Thick as a plank” before he answered my question.

You are an extinct race. I know only 3 women and one of them is you that is this type. First is my mother, you are the second and the third is my girlfriend. Your skin is white, not grossly brown from all the trips to Greece or solarium, you wear decent clothes, always did, you don’t put more make up than you need it. You are neither skinny nor fat. You laugh sincerely, say what you really think and you aren’t even aware of what you are. You are a natural girl. Everything on you is real.”

And then, of course, he burst into laughter. “I am joking, can’t you tell?” We started laughing together, now and I finished our conversation with last question: “And where does this philosophy come from?

“Honestly, I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

“You mean, it’s just some random sh** you thought of to find an excuse for watching that girls but.”

“…And that, of course… But, you’ll see, I think I’m onto something.”

“You’re onto bulls***.”


Walking to my favorite place (it has Wi-Fi and very good coffee, what else do I need) to write this blog, I see a girl, blonde, plastic, kind of reminds me of C3PO when walking (in high heels, trying to lift up her shirt revealing her tattoo… the product is “C3PO movement”) and I remembered this conversation, when I came for the first time to Belgrade and he showed me the “village”. And, like always, I made the day to waitress, with my charismatic smile and words “the usual for me”.

Based on true story and a painful monologue of my Father. Painful to me, my brother and my best friend. I had to apologize later to him for that.



P.S: This is a writing practice. I do it a lot lately. Since I started reading, the words popping in my mind drive me crazy and I have to write them down. I have couple of more writings that I can’t publish on my blog, because they are going to enter some contests. Any critic will be appreciated. Thank you.


My last 60 minutes

“Who are you?”

“My name is not important. I came here for you.”

“But, how do you know me?”

“I know everyone. Now, will you come with me?”

“No! You don’t understand! I can’t come with you. I need to do so many things.”

“But you have to come with me. It is not up to you.”

“Will I ever come back?”

“No. Now come. It is time.”

“Who do you think you are? You can’t just come here and take me with you. I am not going.”

“You need to understand that it is not up to you nor me.”

“Can I at least say goodbye to people I care?”

“No. That’s how it must be.”

“Why are you doing that to me? You are such an evil person!”

“I am not a person.”

“Than what’s your name?”

“Death. Now, come with me.Your sixty minutes with me are over. We must go.”

“I hate you.”

“Get into the line.”

“You do know you are committing murder, right?”

“This is not murder. You are already dead. Sixty minutes are over.”

“You could have told me that.”

“Yes, I could have. But, where is fun to that?”

Congratulation, it’s an anniversary!

Yes, it is time to reflect on 2010 and write a summary. The only problem is, it takes to long and I’m kind of lazy person. I mean, I have to write about things that happened in world, in my country and in my life. Right…

Well, I have to write about it because everybody else writes. (Hell no! I won’t do that!)

Okay, scratch the last sentence. Never mind what I was saying…

There were two things, very similar to each other that marked this year. I don’t know if you’re familiar with it, but in 2010 was the 200 birthday of Frederick Chopin and Robert Schumann.  Do you know who they were?

Well, both of them were piano players and famous composers. Hell, when they say the word piano, the first person I think about is Chopin, the “poet of the piano.” Are you curious why do people call him like that? Than Google it.

Oh, poor Frederick had a very difficult and short life. He lived only 39 years. Anyway, the thing that he loved the most was playing piano. He lived for music. Well, at least he tried. When he was a kid, he thought his hands were small. Although everybody told him that they will grow up, he just couldn’t wait. Every night before sleep he’d put wooden pieces between his fingers so his hands would stretch. That was a terrible mistake.

His hands deformed as the bones moved away from each other. His hands became weak and slow. Never he recovered and became a famous pianist.

But that didn’t stop him. If he couldn’t play fast and loud, he instead wrote soft, beautiful pieces, full of emotion. Yes, he was like no other. He never married, but he was in relationship with a woman (much older than him!) named Amandine Aurore Lucille Dupin. She was a French writer, better known as George Sant. He died of  tuberculosis.

Robert Schumann… Yes, his life sounds like a Spanish soap. Very romantic, and all musicians tend to talk good about this poor guy. You can hate Mozart, Beethoven, even Bach (I mean, you can try, but, will you live?), but never, ever say bad things about Schumann. Why? Because he is the representative of the Romantic era in history of music.

Born in 1810, he composed only for piano until 1840, when he suddenly started composing pieces for piano and orchestra. He wrote over 600 songs for voice and piano (you must know that Mozart, one of the greatest composers ever wrote only 600 pieces in his life) and 4 symphonies.

He was married to Clara Wieck, later known as Clara Schumann. She was a very good pianist, and often she performed his pieces on stage. Schumann, as shy as he was, was then sitting in the crowd, listening how people would commented about his pieces and smiled to himself.

In the last years of his life, he became mentally ill and tried to commit suicide jumping from a bridge above Rein river. Fishermen dragged him out. He died in a hospital for people with mental illness four years after that incident.

Clara never married again. Famous composer Brahms loved her and often propose her, but she never accepted it.

Happy birthday, guys. You were among the best, despite what others say…

Movies…Don’t they just make you cry?

For starts, I have to apologize for not updating my blog. I have a plumber problem in my bathroom which still isn’t fixed. Don’t ask anything. Anyway, let’s begin.

After writing my post about “Sintel”, I asked people which movies made them cry. I was surprised with answers. There were so many movies that I hadn’t expected to hear. Really…

So, here they are. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

1. First response I got from Nikola, who told me about the movie he almost cried. Now, don’t be shy, it’s not that embarrassing for a man to cry.  It is very brave of him to cry. And, also, the movie that made him cry is really very sad and emotional. We’re talking about the “Green Mile.”

The Green Mile

Okay, about the movie. It’s very emotional. I will not write too much. Hell, just watch it. I am not a spoiler. The story about the lives of guards on death row leading up to the execution of a wrongly accused man who has the power of faith healing. That is all you have to know – what is on the internet. All I will say is that it is a good movie.

2. Second response to my question is from a guy who writes movie reviews, Goran. He knows much about movies, but I don’t understand how he can cry on Terminator 2 and Robocop. Ah, well…

Not much to cry at, eh? It's time for action, not crying.

I asked him: “But, what is there to cry about?” Do you know what he sad to me? “The moment where Terminator destroys himself and they dismantle Robocop are two very emotional moments for action movies.” Well, not in these words, but, I know how to read between the lines.
Or, maybe he was just joking. I’ll never know.

3. Mr.z! told me about Ice Age 1. The scene with Diego, the tiger from the movie, when he get’s injured and everyone thinks he’s dead almost brought me to tears (but almost). Also the scene with the baby when they say goodbye and part ways… Beautiful…

And the humans don't talk in this movie. Smart move

4. And, like usual, here is the answer from Uros. He helps me often with these actions I make. He’s  answer was the movie “Saving private Ryan”

Saving private Ryan - You must watch this movie

This movie is good. No discussion. You can’t make me write about it. Go and watch it. Now!

5. After one day break, I started another conversation with Nikola, this time including also our friend Biljana, who really likes to watch movies. While trying to remember the name of the movie she cried on, she reminded me and Nikola about “I am legend” and the scene where the dog dies. Ugh, I still get chills from thinking about it.

Alone, or not alone, is the question now.

6. After remembering this movie, and trying not to cry, we continued our conversation. Biljana told me an interesting movie which, sadly, I hadn’t watched. But, I will, because it looks very promising. It’s the movie “Seven pounds”. I really don’t know anything about it, but if the movie made her cry, than it is an emotional movie.

Seven pounds

That’s it for this week. I really hope I convinced you to watch at least one of these movies. Enjoy.

P.S: Many thanks to my friends who helped me in writing these post. Nikola, Uros, Goran, Mr.z! and Biljana.

At the cafe

Ah…the joy of morning. Oh, and my coffee arrived. Nice! Do you know how much I like sitting here and drinking coffee all morning? You have no idea… Mmmm, this coffee is good. I wonder if there is milk in it.

Okay, now to turn on my laptop. Oooh, there is wireless here. Connect…Yes! Let’s open Twitter and E-mail. New followers? Great. Follow, follow… Hey, who’s this? Meh, follow… Let’s see E-mail: okay, select all, mark as read… Done! This is going to become a routine. I like it!

Wow, hey, a baby! Oh, God, it’s looking at me. What does it want? Why is it smiling at me? Aw, it looks adorable. If I ask the parents to hold it a little, will they let me? Probably not. I wouldn’t give my baby to stranger to hold it, in a first place.

Hey, focus here! You have a post to publish today. Let’s see… Should I write about my dream again? Heh, it was a good one. It had zombies and Nazis… No, not a good idea. People hate Nazis. How about music? No good. Only music I know is classical. People don’t listen to classical music unless they have to. Such a cruel world.

Yay, the baby is back! It looks at me again. I think it’s a girl. It’s dressed all in pink clothes and… Ha! It is a girl. She has a name – Andriana. Cute name for a baby, but not common in this country. I wonder what names would I give to my children? Bah, I shouldn’t think about them. I’m too young for that. Hey, little baby, stop touching my laptop. Hey!

“A little help here! Oh no, don’t be sorry, she’s just a baby, she doesn’t know that is not for touching. No, she doesn’t bother me at all. How old is she? 14 months? Awww, you are a big girl now, Andriana… Oh, I just heard her name when you called it. Yeah, she’s cute. Bye!”

Great! She’s gone. Now I can focus on my… Crap! I finished my coffee. So, another day with no post. Way to go, girl. You know how to pass your time. With babies! Okay, I’ll just open my Twitter once more and then I’m gone. Oh my God, look at this picture! It’s hilarious! Hahahahaha! Ooooh, very good tweet. Let’s just retweet this one and then I’m gone.

What? I’m sitting here for 3 hours? Damn you, Twitter! My phone is ringing. Now, let’s just find it. I can’t find it. ow everyone is looking at me. Great. Now , I’m embarrassed. Ah, there it is.

“Hello? No, I’m at cafe. Yes? No, not a problem. I’m coming. Do you need something to get you? Pizza? It’s a little early for that. Oh, you’re making it. Sounds fun. I’m there in fifteen minutes. Bye!”

When there is no snow, rain sounds beautiful

Just listen to the song and read the meaning of love seen through the eyes of these children.

Rebecca- age 8: “When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.”

Billy – age 4: “When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.”

Karl – age 5: “Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.”

Chrissie – age 6: “Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.”

Terri – age 4: “Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”

Danny – age 7: “Love is when my mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.”

Emily – age 8: “‘Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.”

Bobby – age 7: “Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”

Nikka – age 6: “If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.”

Noelle – age 7: “‘Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.”

Tommy – age 6: “Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.”

Cindy – age 8: “During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.
He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.”

Clare – age 6: “My mummy loves me more than anybody You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.”

Elaine-age 5: “Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.”

Elaine-age 5: “Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.”

Mary Ann – age 4: “‘Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.”

Lauren – age 4: “‘I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.”

Karen – age 7: “When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.”

Mark – age 6: “Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross.”

Jessica – age 8: “‘You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.”

Have these children answered the question? Yes. But, sometimes, children are smarter than that. They give their love even if they don’t understand it. Like one child whose neighbor, a good and kind man, had lost his wife. When the child saw his neighbor cry in front of the house, he went to the man, quietly climbed into his lap and sat there. When his mother asked him what did he say to this man, the child answered: “Nothing, I just helped him cry.”

Now, that’s love, isn’t it.

Just a little story

The room was very dark, almost as if the night has fallen outside. But I knew it was morning. There was something funny about the room. It consisted of only one double bed and a huge cabinet that covered two walls in the room. On the opposite side of the cabinet, were one door that led to the hall of the house, and a window on the other wall with thick curtains that didn’t let the sun in.

I was sitting in my room, packing my stuff into the bag. I sighed and stopped for a moment. Everything was still, except muted rhythmic noise that came from bellow the ground. I went outside to the courtyard and spread the map of Northern America on the wooden table that was in the center of the yard. I was studying the map when I heard someone coming. My boyfriend was standing by my side, also studying the map with worried expression on his face.

“The noise is louder. It’s not good. We need to get out of here.” I rose my head and looked him into the face, frightened: “I know. But there is only room for the two of us. Others will be left to fight for their own life.” His voice was emotionless, which confused me. “Then you need to be ready soon.” He walked away.

I went back to my room and continued packing. Now, what do I need? Hmm, the bag is small, I can’t carry much. Decide wisely, girl, or you will die. Okay, for now, I need a couple of underwear and my computer. Should I carry cables for it? Not that there will be much electricity after everything crashes down. That settled it – no cables. I picked up the bag and went outside again and looked at our transportation.

It was a helicopter, or rather, it had a skeleton that looked like it and had a propeller like it. There was a computer with which this transportation could be handled. I knew that I was the only one who can drive that thing. Impatiently, I waited for my boyfriend to come out. We need to move fast! I tried to start the machine, but the computer was locked and only my boyfriend had the password to unlock it. I sighed again and found myself standing next to the transportation. He walked from the house packed and put the bag on the table outside.

Then I saw an older man coming toward us. He was short and bold. And skinny too. I ignored him, but my boyfriend sat with him to drink. What?! “We should get moving.” He looked at me and said cheerfully: “Come on, not that we need to hurry now. Everything is under control, don’t worry.”

Rolling my eyes I decided to go for a walk. Men, I thought. He would rather die, than pass a drink. I walked down the road to the first store that was open and turned back. I hope he finished that drink. I was frightened the whole time. I don’t want to die. When I came back they were still sitting and drinking. “That was enough”, I said, “we need to get going.”

My boyfriend sighed and rose from the table. But then my phone started ringing. Shaking, I started rummaging through my bag to find my cell phone, but I couldn’t. The phone kept ringing, and ringing…

I found myself in my bed. Cellphone was on my table in my apartment, ringing.

“Hello?” “Hey sweetie, it’s me. Did I wake you up?” “Yes, sadly. Listen, honey, you wouldn’t believe what dream I had last night……